


Internalised Hate

by Spacegaywritings



Series: Bad Therapists have a special Place in Hell [2]
Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (safe denial of emotions and such that is), Biases, Body Dysphoria, Bottom Dysphoria, Burning mention, Cognitive Distortions, Dysphoria, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Genital Mutilation, Implied Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Intrusive Thoughts, Mentions of mutilation, NO actual violence or harm!!, Other, Remus calling out a whole generation of bastards, Restraining order, Standing up for yourself, Thoughts of Violence, Toxicity, Transphobia, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violent Fantasies, bad therapists, badmouthing personal rebellion, belittling treatment, conservative mindsets, deadnaming, ftm remus, genderqueer Remus, implied minority Remus, invalidating, mentions of bad past living conditions, mentions of child predators, mentions of criminality, mentions of denial, mentions of misogyny, mentions of self harm, mentions of shit family, mentions of society, mentions of violence and broken bones, oopsie daisy Remus fucked the law, stabby mention, u! Emile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26816467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacegaywritings/pseuds/Spacegaywritings
Summary: Remus has dysphoria and wants to mutilate his own genitals. The therapist tells him it is not important enough and that dysphoria is not real and that he is not trans but hates society and projects his internalised misogyny on himself
Series: Bad Therapists have a special Place in Hell [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940389
Kudos: 9





	Internalised Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Please be warned of this story. It contains a lot of invalidation about gender dysphoria and non-cis gender experiences. This is for everyone who faced invalidation, transphobia and other replies when outing themselves to therapist. Please notice when a therapist is being constructive and when they are actually pushing their own political agenda and beliefs etc.
> 
> Disclaimer: writing based on subjective experiences of therapy, mental health issues and (LOCAL) stigmas. You might have better/worse/different experiences with your struggles and how they were perceived and treated. Your culture or surroundings might have different biases and approaches. This is for venting and does not objectively apply to everyone’s experience of their mental illness or struggles.

Remus shifted, his legs split. He was sitting on his butt, knees apart as if ready for an observation of his private parts. Heavy boots were on the milky ground. They were black, massive - contrasting the feeble, pale floor beneath him.  
His black jeans hugged his legs and he stared into the spot where his potentially future therapist was shifting around papers.

“I will be there in a minute, only have to check in with your insurance right here. So far, all seems good!”

The young adult suppressed a groan and nodded.

“Sure.”

It was a necessary evil or whatever people said about it. Not that he really cared about this. It was just a dumb expression. Good and bad, evil and ... well, good, were just made up concepts to him. A lot of things he did were good to him and bad to others or vice versa. It was all just a matter of perspectives, a matter of subjective interpretation.  
Morals were relative and calling something evil for being slightly annoying felt a little out of line to him. To the insurance, it was not annoying.

While he thought to himself, the therapist handed him his insurance card with a thick smile and seated himself.

“Alright, now. I am Doctor Emile Picani and I am your therapist - well, hopefully. So, you emailed me about having personal issues and some with your family but also about something with the insurance and treatment? I did not quite get that.”

Remus spread over the couch, laying down. He faced the ceiling with dismay in his unsatisfied face.

“The world sucks. I will eat it.”

The therapist hummed.

“Yes, yes. Care to elaborate?”

“I am a dude and the world thinks I am not, so I have to establish dominance before I stab myself.”

Picani cleared his throat.  
There was insistence behind his action. Again, Remus noted this with a certain distaste. He got a weird feeling in his butt. His butt knew when things were wrong and this comment smelled like the bullshit he was trying to avoid.  
The world was an unfair place and he was ready to fight the world.

“The documents say you are a women, am I correct? If I am not mistaken, your insurance card and pictures indicated this as well.”

The patient closed his eyes and clicked his tongue.

“Listen here. I will only explain this once.”

He slowly turned his body, returning to a sitting position. His intensely green eyes stared into the soulless therapist who was still smiling like this was a comedy to him.

“I am transgender and if you call me a woman, I am fucking out of here. It is not that hard to understand. I am a dude, I feel like a dude, you treat me like one because it is the least amount of respect you owe me as a decent human being.”

Emile opened his mouth to speak but Remus narrowed his eyes at him and hissed. His body seemed to leap forward like a fighter ready to strike.

“I am a dude and I am working on getting a fucking dick because I want one and insurance only covers this if you treat me and make sure I am not faking shit and not actually suffering from some bullshit disorder from one of your stupid books - your ICD, you DESEMI or whatever. I don’t care about your title, your phD or whatever. I just need therapy as a means to an end, so I can bullshit around how hard it is to be trans and you can be sympathetic and give me mental head pats for neither mutilating my own body nor ending my life.”

Blue eyes stared at him, orbs empty. They hardened when Remus unashamedly stared back at him as if for a challenge.

“Have you ever come into contact with the law?”

Remus rolled his eyes, sighing.

“Ya asking whether I am a criminal little shit? I am, sue me. Did not work. I was young and dumb and hated the world. Broke some bones when I was sexually assaulted. Stole some shit from horrible people and stalked a child predator. You mad at that? It is called working for justice.”

He stopped himself from saying more. With delight, he would have added comments about how Emile probably never heard about justice but a part of him still hoped the dude would at least sit down and fake some attendance for him, so they could both be at peace and he could get his joyful dick and slam it on a desk like he needed to.  
The local trash rat just wanted some godforsaken fucking wiener in his pants, so he would not have to stuff tubes, container or socks into his crotch anymore. He just wanted to stop wanting to stab his own genitals for the sake of maintaining a little 

“How about your family? How was your life in that regard?”

Remus leaned back.

“Shit, shit and even more shit. I moved out when I was a minor. I saw the inside of the closet more than a loaded fridge. Not just because I am not the cis straight golden fucking child.”

Emile nodded.

“Do you stay in contact with you respective family members?”

He shook his head.

“It is not family if it does not support you or care for you. The best they gave me is a restraining order and alimony as ruled by the family court.”

“Uh-huh.. interesting.”

He scribbled meaningless curves and curls all over his clipboard. Remus scoffed and clicked his tongue before taking a deep breath.  
Don’t stab the therapist, big boy.

“Yeah, whatever. They don’t mean anything but trouble or money anymore. Give me my therapy space and we can be done with it?”

The need to add some defiant comments about going to big big gay sex parties was strong but he tried to be as civil as possible. He already liked to remember the therapist’s head in his violent dreams and fantasise about burning this smile off his face.

“Well, now. I think you do need therapy indeed. There seems to be issues with authority and conduct as well as relationship issues. From what I gather, you are a rather straight-forward person and you do not want to waste any time. I will be direct with you. I think you need to be re-socialised. Your detachment from society causes you to reject certain ideals of how to live and it obviously diminishes your life quality. You mentioned self-harm in hypothetical scenarios, so we might need to hospitalise you and make sure you will not follow through with these urges.”

Remus’ eyes darkened.

“Detachment from society?”

His words were spat into the therapist’s vague direction. The addressed doctor only beamed back at him, excitement taking over his features.  
Was that dude a weird kind of sadist?

“Well, I get that you are confused. Let me put it this way: society treated you in ways you perceived to be unfair, somewhat. This might be a realistic or a distorted view, considering you yourself mentioned you were younger. This probably lead to some sort of mutual rejection - you are a part of society but feel so detached from it, you came to resent it.”

Remus shook his head.

“I think you don’t understand how this works, Mister Privilege.”

Emile giggled.

“See, this is where the disturbance of conduct jumps in. You have issues with people telling you things. I think you might be working up a really distorted sense of reality. We might have to see into personality orders for this. It makes sense we meet at least weekly in order to diminish your self-hurting thoughts and distorted cognition. Hating the reality as it is means you are working up an enemy image in order to motivate yourself. You are bringing the fighter instinct out, so you can better work with reality. This is a coping mechanism based on denial and it is not good, Amanda. These are really unhealthy things to do.”

Remus stood um, a storm raising with him.  
When he got up, there was a force in his movement. If getting up could be a n act of violence or disturbance, it was made by Remus and Remus only. He held the force in his body to make a therapist flinch even just the smallest bit.

“I fucking told you to not call me that! Do you have no respect? What about your fucking code of being non-judgemental and open?! This is literally one of the things therapists are taught as soon as they start studying. Are you fucking with me, here? Is this some kind of sick joke? If you are true to your word, you are a the worst therapist out there. Even if you did not agree, you could bring shit up in less fucked-up ways. You are literally trying to tell me that I suck because I wanted to be hated and be victimised? Do you know how this can mess up your clients?”

Emile leaned back, a cold superiority in his stance. He adjusted his glasses, an almost shy-looking smile on his lips. He would seem so innocent if he was not the most hurtful creature Remus had ever met.

“I think you are just proving my point here, Remus. Your violent and rejective reactions are the symptom of your distorted reality. You refuse to accept your sex, your body, your parents and whole family and blame them. Maybe you imagine the whole abuse or put it together because it was personally more acceptable for you to view them as enemy rather than deal with your own issues of wanting more than you got.”

Remus shook his head.

“No no no no no-”, he mumbled, stomping one of his feet with more force, “You will NOT talk my past into some weird manipulative twirl of YOUR interpretation of what happened. You were not there, you did not even listen to what happened and still think you can make inferences about why I am the way I am?”

He scoffed, sneering for just a moment as he looked to the side.

“Just tell me you are a transphobic shit instead of hiding behind your pseudo-therapeutic bullcrap about me making shit up. I am not. I know I am a man, I have always been and you cannot take my identity away from me. Maybe you are the one distorting your perception, so you can shape your world as you need it because you are scared of the change.”

He picked up his things, his card going into his pants’ pockets.  
The therapist moved to get up but Remus shook his head.

“Stay. Stay in your bubble. I can find my way out all by myself.”

The man left, leaving the therapist alone in his white walls. Isolated, from the world, from the truth and the warmth of Remus’ identity.  
The therapist sighed and straightened his posture as he sent a message to his receptionist to close the file and call in the next patient.

**Author's Note:**

> End Note: This is not how a therapist should treat you. If someone treats you or your issues like that, please make sure you leave immediately and report this. A real therapist will validate your concerns and try to redirect your thoughts. If you have mental health issues, please reach out for help. Dysphoria and self-harming wishes or suicidal ideation can have several different causes. It makes sense to contact a GP and work with a therapist and even psychiatrist if needed. Transphobic health care workers exist and it is not pretty. Make sure to rely on inclusive networks - there are specific organisations providing support and information for genderqueer individuals.  
> Please be safe.
> 
> **PS: you do NOT need ANY dysphoria in order to be trans. Do not let anyone deceive you. You are valid, no matter how, why or whether you do not even transition. You define yourself.**


End file.
